MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE. 



Oh, what a night I then passed ! It was a vision with unclosed 

 eyes, a waking dream of brightness in the midst of darkness. As I 

 lay all consciously entranced, and gazed in fancy on my lovely in- 

 cognita, my peerless Opera- visitant, " She is herself," I whispered to 

 my pillow, " nature's opera-prima !" 



I rose the next morning like a captive ; for I felt that the truest 

 liberty, that of the heart, had left me ; and then, in renewed force, 

 there was the cruel thought that my enslaver was not accessible that 

 she, the gaoler of " my bosom's lord," was absent with the keys of 

 my chest absent I knew not where, and, perhaps, never to return 

 and give release ! This depressing idea haunted me at my breakfast, 

 which was any thing but a light meal, although what I ate was but a 

 mere nothing. I did manage to mumble through a muffin : but it 

 seemed to hang like a dead weight at my heart, from whence not all 

 the influence of two large cups of strong tea could avail to dislodge 

 it. Sorrowfully I took up my hat, and walked to my daily occupa- 

 tion, that of confidential clerk to a colonial house in Bishopsgate- 

 street Within. 



It were needless to say how much the vague and dreamy notions 

 inspired by Cupid, the deity of distraction, are at variance with count- 

 ing-house habits of business. The plumed arrows from the quiver of 

 that perverse little divinity will not run parallel with the feathered 

 implement which the goose gives forth from her quivering wings. 

 When the head is busy in the service of the heart, it resents being 

 summoned to any other employ. When love comes in at the door, 

 business jumps out of the window. In short, I could do nothing all 

 that day at my desk, at least, nothing which could (to use the esta- 

 blished phrase) " give satisfaction." The head of the firm, who had 

 his eye on me, was astonished at my absence. Hitherto, notwith- 

 standing the innate enthusiasm of my temperament, I had yielded, 

 with no bad grace, to the discipline of City habits, insomuch that my 

 very nature seemed te subdued to what it worked in." The regu- 

 larity of a dial, the despatch of a mail-coach, and the penetration of a 

 corkscrew had been hitherto my characteristics : the present contrast 

 was not likely to escape the notice of Mr. Marks, our principal. He 

 spoke (for the first time with justice} in terms of acceleration. I 

 mended my pen, and its pace too ; but the progress made was at the 

 expense of errors too glaringly obvious. It was a heavy post-day, 

 and the letters to correspondents formed, as usual, my department of 

 duty. Some of the mistakes and substitutions which I made, derived 

 as they were from the immediate state of my faculties, were entirely 

 too absurd : I shall, therefore, not expose myself by mentioning them ; 

 but will only add that nothing escaped Mr. Marks, who, indeed, had 

 no slight trouble in correcting the letters before he could sign them. 

 But what to me was, at that moment, the displeasure of my prin- 

 cipal ? Nothing not the spurt of a pen ! In fact, she was my prin- 

 cipal she, the mysterious centre of my soul's attraction and I almost 

 disdained to recognize any other. 



Upset as I was, there remained one uncertain hope of setting myself 

 right again. The King's Theatre stood where it did, and the queen 

 of my secret homage might again grace it with her exquisite presence. 



